Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
“Mine next,” Maddox says, pointing to his two packages. I place one in front of each of them, and they go to town, tearing at the wrappers.
“Shopping!” they say when they see the play cash registers.
“It’s supposed to help teach them counting money,” Maddox says. “It says four and up.”
“It’s perfect,” I assure him.
“I have to admit, y’all did a great job, not knowing the girls,” Brogan tells them.
“We’re just that good,” Lachlan teases.
“Girls, why don’t you open mine next?” Maggie points to two small, wrapped boxes.
I push the boxes in front of the girls, and they get to work.
“Look at that,” I say with as much enthusiasm as I can. I know the girls are confused as to what they’re holding. “You get to paint rocks, and they glow in the dark! We can put them outside and they’ll light up at night.”
“Cool!” Rayne says.
“Can we put them in our room?” River asks.
“Of course. We can do both.”
“Now?” they ask at the same time.
“Not right now. Later. You still have presents to open and cake to eat.”
“More presents?” they ask in awe. That gets a chuckle from the adults.
“Okay, now ours,” Monroe says, pointing toward her gifts.
The gifts are barely in front of them and they’re tearing into them. “Jewelry!” they exclaim.
“They’re bigger pieces,” Monroe assures me. “Says four and up, as well.”
“It’s perfect. They’ll love playing with them. Thank you.” I turn toward my daughters and watch as they both stand and move toward Forrest.
“Open pwease.” They hand the gifts to him.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell them to wait, but Forrest beats me to it. “I will open them, but you have one more gift from me.” He nods to where the two final gift bags are sitting.
“Okay,” River says, moving back toward me with Rayne on her heels.
The girls dive into the gift bags, pulling out their gifts. “Whoa,” Rayne whispers.
“We can take pictures?” River asks.
Again, I don’t get to answer before Forrest does. “You can. It also prints them right away. Before we open them, there is more in the bag. Keep digging,” he tells my daughters.
Not needing to be told twice, their little hands dig back into the bags and pull out another small box. “What’s this?” Rayne asks.
“That’s extra paper for your cameras, so you can take all the pictures you want. There’s one more. Keep looking.” Forrest nods toward the gift bags. The girls dive back in and pull out what looks like a photo album.
“Those are for you to keep your pictures,” he explains. “Bring them here.” Dutiful as ever, they rush toward him and hand him their albums. “See this?” He points to the front of each one. “Those are your names. I drew them for you.”
“For me?” they say at the same time.
“This twin stuff is a little freaky.” Lachlan laughs, while my heart is bursting wide open.
“Yes, for you. Now, what do you want me to open for you first?” he asks them.
They choose the cameras, and he gets right to work opening River’s.
“Rayne, bring yours over, and I’ll help,” Maddox offers.
I don’t know how they can already tell them apart. I mean, I know they are not identical, but they’ve spent very little time around my girls. It warms my heart to know that they’ve been paying attention.
“I want Forrest to do it.” She plops down beside Forrest, the opposite side of her sister, and waits patiently for her turn. Forrest gives her a smile, while my heart trembles inside my chest.
“Maddox is really good at opening boxes,” Forrest tells her.
“I want you.” Rayne crosses her arms over her chest.
“Rayne, let Mommy help you.” I stand, but she’s already shaking her head.
“No.”
“Forrest will help us, Mommy,” River says, defending her sister's decision.
“Okay. Well, I guess I’ll go get the cake ready so we can sing ‘Happy Birthday.’” With one more quick glance at Forrest with my girls, I move into the kitchen before gathering the candles and the lighter. I bought the number four candles for their little individual cakes.
“You good?” Brogan asks.
“Fine.” I don’t bother looking up at her as I busy myself with removing the cakes from their boxes.
“Briar.”
“What? Grab that other one, will ya?” I nod toward the second small cake on the kitchen island, head toward the table, and set it in front of where the girls sit. They are the exact same cake. I didn’t want a fight over one wanting the other. I try to keep them as individual as I can, not making them dress alike, although sometimes they want to. However, in this instance, I didn’t want an argument. I’m glad I had the forethought to do that. I would hate for them to argue in front of our guests.
Brogan does as I ask and brings the other cake to the table. “It’s nice, all of them showing up.”